Haze

by Deborah Bladon

  "He's very attractive." She sighs. "He's tall, dark hair, green eyes. He was wearing a nice suit. It wasn't a suit from Berdine, sir, but you know, it was well fitted."

  "Did she say where she was having lunch?" I look across the boutique to where one of the sale associates is helping two women. "What time is she scheduled to come back?"

  Her eyes dart to the clock hanging on the wall behind us. "She should be walking back through the door any minute now. That is, unless she's late again. If she is, I'll handle it, sir. I can take care of it."

  I toss a glance at the bank of windows that look out onto Fifth Avenue. That's when I see her. She's wearing a fitted grey dress and her hair is styled impeccably in a ponytail. As she leans forward to embrace the man she's with, I'm flooded with an instant, and unexpected, sense of relief.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Isla

  "You two know each other?" I ask with a measure of surprise in my tone.

  "Garrett is a friend," Gabriel pats Mr. Ryan on the shoulder. "He's actually the cousin of my closest friend. We travel in the same circles."

  I should have known that. Almost everyone I've met since I moved to Manhattan is connected to everyone else. When I contacted Garrett Ryan to help me sort through some legal issues, I had no idea that he was actually one of the most in demand probate attorneys in all of New York. He's much more competent than the attorney I'd had in Chicago. Mr. Ryan has done more for me in the past two months than any other lawyer I've hired.

  "I saw Vanessa last week." Gabriel pushes his hands into the front pockets of his pants. "My mother was admitted to the hospital. Vanessa was on duty that night."

  "That's right." Mr. Ryan taps his finger on his chin. "I was glad to hear Gianna was alright."

  I may not be following the conversation completely but I definitely know who Vanessa is. She's Mr. Ryan's wife. He came in last week to buy something special for her birthday. She's also a nurse with a very proud husband who loves her completely.

  "I should get back to work," I say quietly because I can almost feel Cicely's eyes boring a hole into the middle of my back. "I have a lot to do this afternoon."

  "I'll have my assistant prepare those documents we spoke of, Isla." Mr. Ryan's hand brushes against my shoulder. "We can have them ready tomorrow and if it's more convenient, I can stop by here with her to sign them."

  "No," I blurt out quickly. "I mean, I have time after work to come to your office. I can be there by four at the latest."

  "I'll clear that hour for you." His eyes dart from my face to Gabriel's. "It was good to see you, Gabriel. Call me and we'll meet for a drink soon."

  "Next week," Gabriel replies as he holds out his hand. "We'll find time then."

  ***

  "I think I should be included in this meeting." Cicely crosses her arms over her chest as she stands in the doorway of the office at the back of the boutique. "I'm Isla's manager, sir. Rowan told me to take more control over the employees."

  I know he's going to send her packing, but I'd rather she stay. My day, so far, has been the shits. I'd ignored his suggestion to call his driver when I was ready to leave the hotel. Instead, I'd taken the elevator down to the entrance we arrived at last night. I'd asked one of the men standing near the door to hail me a taxi. The ride back to my apartment had been bumpy and reckless. I had to hold onto the back of the seat in front of me for dear life.

  Once I finally got home, I had all of fifteen minutes to get ready for work all while trying to maneuver around Cassia's questions about where I'd spent the night. I'd pulled on the last clean dress I had in my closet and tightened my hair into a ponytail. With just a bit of make-up on, I hurried back out the door and made it to work with not more than a minute to spare. I know that, for a fact, because Cicely took it upon herself to point out the time to me.

  My lunch with Mr. Ryan might have been a bright spot in my day if he hadn't handed me a letter my mother had given to her attorney to pass along to me. Months ago I would have cried while reading it. Today, I just felt empty as my eyes scanned the handwritten words. On the surface, to a stranger, they'd seem heartfelt and touching. I know better though. She's flailing and the only words that I crave from my mother are the ones she'll never say to me.

  "This is a private matter," he says as he takes a step towards her. "Close the door on your way out."

  "Anything that concerns the boutique should include me." She actually stomps her shoe against the floor. "I'm going to stay."

  "You're going to leave now." He waves her away with a brush of his hand in the air. "Close the door. Get back to the front of the store."

  An audible sigh escapes her lips as she turns on her heel and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

  Cicely has a bitchy attitude. Who knew? Well, actually, I did.

  I look at Mr. Foster. His hair is in place. He's more composed than he was last night. He looks almost exactly as he did the first time I saw him. He also looks completely different to me now that I know what it's like to kiss him and come from the sensation of his mouth on my pussy.

  "I'd like to discuss what happened last night, Isla."

  This day already feels much heavier than I can manage. Possibly if I hadn't read my mother's words wishing me a happy birthday, I'd feel more emotionally equipped to talk to him. The letter was filled with sentiments I wish were true but sadly, each and every one was a thinly veiled attempt to manipulate me into giving her what she wants. That has nothing to do with a relationship with me and everything to do with money.

  I cross my arms over my chest. Maybe it's an attempt to shield myself from further damage. Maybe it's nothing more than my need to stay resolute in the decision I made earlier when I left the birthday card and tickets he'd given me back in his hotel room. "There's nothing to discuss, Mr. Foster. It was a mistake. I'm sorry it ever happened and it will never happen again."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Gabriel

  This is the point where I typically cut my losses and walk away. I don't have these discussions with women because I've never seen a need to. Whenever I've been with a woman and the connection has charted off the course I've wanted it to stay on, I've ended things. Investing my time, and energy, into someone I know I won't see beyond a few weeks is wasteful. There is clearly no shortage of women in Manhattan. There is, however, only one Isla Lane.

  "That's not true." My jaw tightens. "It was not a mistake, Isla. It was one of the most memorable evenings I've ever had."

  She blinks. "You don't have to say that. I'm not going to fall apart because of this."

  I don't need to hear those words to understand that.

  What she doesn't understand is that I'm already falling apart because of her words.

  "I apologize for leaving in a rush this morning." I move closer but she retreats towards the door in an equal step. "I was faced with a time sensitive issue. It had to be handled immediately."

  "You're a busy man." She shrugs her shoulders. "I get it. You had to go."

  I haven't seen her like this before. She's closed off. She's built a barrier around herself. It's there in her posture and also in the tone of her voice. She's being dismissive, bordering on curt.

  "I've upset you," I offer with an outstretched hand. "Tell me what it is, Isla. Give me a chance to fix it."

  Her head shakes from side-to-side. "That's not necessary. I'm sorry I came to your hotel room."

  The realization hits me immediately. I say the thing I've been thinking since I saw her nude, standing by the window last night. "I'm sorry I took you to that hotel room."

  Her bottom lip quivers slightly but she's quick to halt its movement with a slow pull of her top teeth across it. The action shouldn't be as sensual as it is, but how I react to her is overpowering.

  "You agree that it was a mistake?" As much as she tries to contain the emotion in her voice, she can't. I hear the tremble in it, the raw reaction.

  I step closer still and this time there's no movement
at all on her part. "I agree that you don't belong there. I agree that I should have taken you to my penthouse."

  Her hand leaps to her chest and the soft flesh that is visible above the neckline of her dress. "It wouldn't have changed anything. Things still would have gone the way they did."

  "Things?" I reach forward to brush my hand over her elbow. She stiffens slightly. "What things? I don't understand."

  I see the plea in her eyes the second they meet mine. Her lips move faintly as if she's trying to find the right words. I study her face. It's so vulnerable. There's something there in her stunning blue eyes that needs to be said. It's right there, buried beneath a layer of pain.

  "I need to understand what I've done." I lick my bottom lip. "I can see that I've upset you. Please, Isla, explain to me what it is."

  She swallows so hard that the sound is audible in the stillness of the room. "I'm just…I'm really embarrassed, sir."

  "Embarrassed?" I rake my hand through my hair. I knew I'd have to backpedal to make up for leaving in such a hurry but this is something more. I embarrassed her. I made her feel insignificant somehow.

  "I asked you for things," she says in a shaky breath as she closes her eyes. "I'm sorry but I wanted those things so I asked for them. You didn't want them. I'm so humiliated."

  I grab hold of her biceps and pull her into my chest, cradling her head in my hand. "Christ, Isla. No, don't think that."

  She tries to pull back but I hold her tightly. "I just wanted so much."

  My chest tightens with the words. She asked me to fuck her. She wanted to blow me. I turned it all down. I'd rejected her. That's the burden she's carrying. It's my rebuff.

  "Isla." I wrench her back so I can look down at her face. "Beautiful, beautiful, Isla."

  Her expression shifts slightly. "We don't have to talk about this. We can just forget last night. Sometimes things aren't meant to happen."

  "We are meant to happen," I say the words without any hesitation. "I didn't handle myself well last night."

  "I don't want you to say those things to me." She tugs herself free from my grasp and I let her. "You don't have to be kind to me. I'm not one of those girls who need that. I'm just not."

  "Do you enjoy spending time with me?" I ask clearly and succinctly.

  "That's not the point, Gabriel."

  "It's the only point that matters, Isla. Answer the question. Do you enjoy spending time with me?"

  "Yes," she spits back. "You know that I do."

  I smile faintly at the concession. "Do you want to spend more time with me?"

  Her mouth curves slightly. "That's a stupid question. I mean after the way I acted last night, why are you even asking me that?"

  I cock a brow. "You'll learn very quickly, Isla that no question I ask is stupid. I have a reason for everything."

  "What's the reason then?" The question is laced with challenge. "Tell me the reason why last night went the way it did."

  I'm on her before she has a chance to respond, pushing her back, pinning her to the wall. Her breath catches as I push my body into hers.

  "Look at me, Isla." I nudge her cheek with my jaw. "Look up now."

  "Yes, sir." Her voice does nothing to hide her arousal as her eyes lock on mine.

  I trace my lips across her cheek before I slide them over her mouth, pulling her into a deep, intense kiss. The low moan that flows from her mouth into mine sends a wave of heat right through me.

  "One taste of you unraveled me, Isla," I growl into the soft skin of her neck. "I couldn’t fuck you there. That's not the place you belong."

  "Where do I belong?" she asks in barely more than a whisper.

  "In my bed. That is the only place you belong."

  -Uploaded by Em's Emporium ORD -VK-

  If you're not getting this book from Em's Emporium then the person who uploaded this book didn't care for this group. Such an ignorant person who gain benefit for her own purposes

  Why do you support this person?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Isla

  I'm reasonably sure when I walked out of the office with my lipstick smeared all over my mouth and Gabriel's, that Cicely finally clued in to what's been going on. If she hadn't, the hard-on that he was trying to mask beneath his carefully placed right hand would have given everything away.

  He'd kissed me deeply after he told me that he wanted me in his bed. That's his actual bed and not the fuck pad one. As tempted as I was to ask him about that place and exactly how many other women have ordered room service breakfast, I didn’t. His past is his past and right now I'm his present. That's the only thing that matters to me.

  "Are you and Mr. Foster boning?"

  Boning? Is that an actual thing?

  I keep hanging up the new robes that arrived today with the hope that Cicely will disappear right along with that question. Who even refers to it as boning?

  "Isla, I asked you a question." She taps me on the shoulder. "I want to know about you and Mr. Foster."

  I pivot on my heel to face her. I hadn't noticed that bright red headband she's wearing before now. It actually matches her dress perfectly. It does nothing to deter from the large fabric bow that is perched on her left shoulder.

  "What is it? I'm really busy right now, Cicely."

  "Are you and Mr. Foster doing things? You are having sex with him, aren't you?"

  So far just really spectacular oral sex, thank you. Well, technically, thank you to Mr. Foster for that.

  "My personal life isn't your business." I perch my hands on my waist. "What I do after work isn't your concern, Cicely."

  "Did you do it in the office just now? If you did, that's my business."

  "I've never had sex in this building." I wave my hand in the air. "Have you?"

  "Once."

  My mouth literally falls open. I feel it and I do nothing to stop it. "You've had sex in the boutique?"

  "It was after hours." She points at a table covered in lace panties. "It was over there, against that table."

  I rest my fingertips against my forehead. How did I get involved in this conversation and beyond that, is there a way to get that mental image out of my mind?

  "Don't run to Mr. Foster and tell him that." She points her finger at me. "I'll deny it and you'll look like a fool."

  My lips twist wryly. "I won't tell a soul, Cicely. Your secret is safe with me."

  I mean it. I'm not even sure I could form the words to tell anyone, let alone Gabriel, about Cicely's sex life.

  ***

  "Isla, did you ever make it to Skyn?"

  I close the door of the change room with a small push of my shoulder. I feel instant relief once I hear the latch catch.

  "I went there once," I admit. "I can't say it was the best experience I've ever had."

  She adjusts the lace bra she's trying on. "I like the way this fits. Does it come in different colors?"

  I nod slowly. "Black, violet, I think there's also a red option, but I'll need to double check that we have it in stock."

  "You don't carry collars, do you?"

  She's not the first customer to ask me that. She is, however, the first, and only customer, I've had who has ever talked about Skyn, that club I went to a few weeks ago in Lower Manhattan.

  "I'm sorry, Tiffany, we don't."

  That's the name she likes to be called. I'm not sure if it's part of her fantasy life, but it's not the name on her credit card or on her driver's license, which she had to show me to verify her identity when she opened an account with us.

  If I had to wager a guess, I'd say she's at least fifteen years older than me. The first time she came in, she asked me to help her try on dozens of different bras. During the hour I spent with her she rambled on about her penchant for being tied up. It had sparked my interest immediately and when she talked about the men she'd met at Skyn, I made the mistake of asking her where the club was.

  "I know a place I can get one." She gestures to her back in an effort to get me to u
nclasp the bra. "Do you want to come with me after work one day? It might be fun."

  There's no actual protocol that states that we can't hang out with customers, especially the ones who have the same interests we do. It's not as though I can tell Cassia about what I like in bed. I tried once, two or three years ago, when I asked if she would like it if her boyfriend spanked her.

  Her reaction was telling, not just the words she used but her body language. She'd laughed uncontrollably before announcing that she'd kick any guy who tried to do that to her right in his groin.

  I never brought it up again after that even though it's been something I've craved since my first year of college when the boyfriend I had helped me understand the pleasure I could find in pain.

  His experience was as limited as mine but together, we'd experimented and when we broke up, I felt a void that couldn’t be filled with just a good fuck. I craved more and I still do.

  Last night was the first time I felt so aroused under a man's touch. When Gabriel pulled my hands back and laced them together with the sash, I almost lost my balance. I practically came when he slapped my ass. It was so much, too much but I wanted even more.

  "I think I'll take these two." She motions towards two bras on the bench next to us. "You'll think about my offer, won't you?"

  "I will." I might. Then again, Gabriel may give me everything I need.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Gabriel

  "Tell me about haze."

  Her head pops up as her eyes skim the perimeter of the restaurant. "You want to talk about that here?"

  "Is there a reason we shouldn't?" I take a small sip from the glass of wine I ordered after we were seated. Isla opted for sparkling water again. I might have joined her until I saw the dress she's wearing. It's the same one she had on at Skyn when I spotted her through the glass. Her body is on ripe and almost full display and if we weren't in the center of Axel NY right now, enjoying what I hope will be a quick dinner, I'd be fucking her raw.